


Is My Body Heat The Right Intensity?

by Pink_and_Velvet



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: 80s Throwback, At least in my head he does, Blowjobs, Club music, Dancing, First Kiss, First Meeting, Frottage, Grinding, Ice is singing, Iceman likes Duran Duran, Leads Into Canon, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Roughness, Sweat, Voyeurism, handjobs, night club, night out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 03:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21092546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: Maverick meets a special and overly sensual man at a new night club. It isn’t long before he’s backed against the wall and his greatest competition has swallowed him whole.





	Is My Body Heat The Right Intensity?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @boasamishipper and her idea that Icemav meet before TOPGUN and have a one night stand. I didn’t exactly run with it but they definitely get a little hotter and closer than either would’ve liked, if they knew they were dealing with.
> 
> Thanks Boa, for helping my writers slump/all round creative block. 💗
> 
> Title and main lyrics taken from John Taylor’s cunt shredding _I Do What I Do.___
> 
> It’s said that Take My Breath Away was originally written for 9 1/2 Weeks. Which makes a hell of a lot more sense than where it ended up. 😉

The club was rife. Lights were flashing and silhouettes a blur, pushing and shoving to lay a hand on the bar. The tunes were beginning to slow down. They’d played everything from New Order and Depeche Mode to Kim Wilde and Robert Palmer that whatever beat penetrated the sweaty air, the entire floor would be surely full with intense dance vibes. The requests kept on coming and coming, the strobe lights kept interweaving in between bodies and lustful heat.

He sauntered through, silently thanking his height (and lack thereof) for sliding through to the bar in almost one piece. Usually he’d get stared at on the street, the patches tended to lure in the ladies and fascinate the gents but tonight that didn’t matter.

They were both here, together, to get completely and utterly wasted. Perhaps he could pick up a bird or two, who knows. They’d be time for that later.

Over the pulsating beat of A-ha’s _Take On Me _a joyful, southern accent half screamed: “On the premises!”

“On the premises. Make it fifty and you’re on.”

“Naw, Mav. Gotta treat my baby when she arrives. If only I could find someone to talk dirty to me in the meantime.” He chuckled, as he was elbowed in the ribs.

“Goose, they’d better have no damn room to get laid on the floor like this. Take ‘er upstairs, yeah?”

Together they laughed as Goose rolled his eyes so hard, he caught sight of a bright white light that he hissed at the intensity.

Maverick began scanning the floor, the messy heap of near black sweating, grinding, shoving proving near impossible to seek out the one. He bobbed along to The Power Station, drumming his fist atop of the bar.

“Why’d these guys only do one album?”

“Who knows Mav. The distance and all? Duran Duran gettin’ back together on uh, oh what’s it called?”

“_Notorious_.”

“Yeah, Mav that one. Two Taylors down.”

Maverick grasped two Budweisers and together he and Goose chanced it: delving headfirst into the sticky heat.

The mood shifted. More guys and their girls flocked to the floor as suddenly the beat dropped. A mere pounding of the snare; synths jacked up to the max. A sultry half moan- half orgasmic scream penetrated the room. Buttons were popping and skirts were rising. Everywhere he turned couples were closing in on each other, targets locked, and were either roughly rutting up against the other or were devouring the other’s neck.

Beers were spilling, cocktails overflowing. The giggles of the regulars turned into pants and hisses.

_I do what I do, I do what I do_

_To have you_

_(Have you)_

The crowd moaned along, hips jerking to the intense ‘fucking’ rhythm. The lights turned down, coating the bodies in a raging red. Maverick’s red.

The beat picked up and Maverick delved further into the fray. He was finding his beat, swaying back and fourth.

_I do it all to have you. _

_(I do, I do, I do, I do)_

“The hell is this song, Goose?” He called, seating for Goose’s silhouette.

“9 ½ Weeks, sexy shit.”

Maverick nodded, mouth agape and head tilted. Sure he had heard of it but he hadn’t found the right person to watch it with; rub and tug a little as it played in the theatre with. Kim Basinger. Like _that_… It would definitely be a wasted opportunity.

At that very moment he stumbled forward, having been knocked from behind. He jerked the bottle forward, barely saving it from coating Goose’s bomber jacket.

“Christ, watch where ya going, you stupid mother—“ He pivoted on his heel, his eyes widened.

_I do it all to have you. _

_(I do, I do, I do, I do)_

A blurry, delicious figure emerged from the tantalising lights. Backlit by the red, his face was open and glowing. He was panting, a slick sweat coating his flushed skin.

“Sorry, I.. I didn’t.. uh.”

Goose took his cue, bumping Maverick forward and knocking him into the strangers arms. Maverick’s eyes were fixed, wide and in awe. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move anymore.

He took in the sly but beautiful grin. The raised eyebrow, seemingly blonde, and before he knew it two huge hands circled his waist.

_Did you look the way you wanted to look?_

_Did you feel the way you wanted to feel?_

He was pulled in, targeted and locked, chests flush and grinding. Grinding slow and steady, breaths coming faster and shakier.

_Are you happy now, that we fantasised?_

Grinding wild and untamed.

_I do what I do, I do what I do_

_To have you_

_(Have you)_

_I do it all to have you_

He felt his body melt into mush, pushing himself closer and closer. Together they rocked, breaths intermingling, hands trailing down to cup his perfectly tiny ass.

_I do what I do to have you_

_(Have you)_

Maverick yelped into his elongated neck.

_I do it all to have you_

“Christ.”

He was met by a glorious chuckle, a damp chest rising and falling and if Maverick squinted, a slight darkening to the already flaming cheeks.

The tantalising, sensual vocals flowed and flowed. Hips rolled and mouth collided. Hands grasped at hair and tongues forcefully parted. They were rutting maddeningly up against the other, the hardnesses of both men almost unbearable.

_I do what I do to have you_

_(Have you)_

_I do it all to have you_

“Upstairs.” The silken voice muttered against Maverick’s ear who keened, turning into the awaiting kiss again.

He didn’t have to be told twice.

The beat began to fade but the words still rang loud and clear, the saxophone, the synthesiser amplified all that Maverick wanted to happen: the pace and the speed.

He couldn’t hold on. He needed those perfectly plush and inviting lips on him, everywhere, those dexterous fingers dripping lower and lighting fires across his dripping skin.

They stumbled into a quieter corridor, round to the back of the club. They weren’t alone as such but the other couples were just another blur in the craziness of the night.

Maverick was slammed back into the wall: a hand in his hair, a hand opening the front of his jeans.

_Did you look the way you wanted to look?_

The man wasn’t soft or gentle. He panted harshly into his ear, sucking and biting at his neck. His quick hands worked miracles, tugging faster and faster.

_Did you feel the way you wanted to feel?_

Maverick groaned, thrusting upwards into the torturous touch. He skirted a hand down, grasping all that he could find of the other sweaty figure. The lightly muscled forearms, losing his grip on the sticky leather. Down to the perfectly sculpted ass, he clutched hard, and they slammed their hips together, groaning into delightfully hot and wet mouths.

Within moments those delectable lips were surrounding his length, swallowing everything he gave. Maverick kept coming in coming, a rain storm shooting it’s way down a perfectly elongated throat.

_Are you happy now that we fantasised?_

They kissed again, sharing the taste of Maverick onto his tongue.

“Fuck” He breathed, having never tasted himself like that. He liked it. Loved it. “Your turn.”

He was met by a beaming smile, too white teeth, radiating warmth.

Maverick changed their positions, hands shooting straight down to the regulation belt and zipper. He jerked him, rough with little finesse, swallowing the groans, riding high on the sensation.

Within moments his hand was covered in torrents of juices, which he rubbed back over the pulsing member, dragging out the frenzy.

_Is my body heat the right intensity?_

Together they came down, Maverick holding the man who shivered in his grasp.

_I do what I do to have you_

_(Have you)_

_I do it all to have you_

“Fucking hell. It’s the song. What’s the deal with that song?”

“Some sensuous shit. I’m a big fan of the singer.”

He was met by what looked like embarrassment or what could easily be the post orgasmatic glow taking its toll.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He panted, taking hold of Maverick’s arms, “one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen” He added slowly, taking a moment to lick his lips.

He left him there, stalking back into the light, becoming more of a blur step by step. Maverick stood there a huge smile covering his face.

The words rang through his head for the rest of the night, the thrills of his touch and the raging fire igniting within him.

_Are you happy now?_

_I did what I did_

_Are you happy now?_

“Fucking hell.”

_I did what I did._

Finally he broke away, heading back down into the fray. He fingered at his dog tags, running them around his neck.

Back into the club, his eyes traced everywhere from the bar to the floor. The figure was gone.

_Are you happy now?_

_I did what I did._

_Are you happy now?_

Maverick couldn’t have been happier.

***

“Pete Mitchell, Tom Kazansky.”

Maverick could’ve thrown up right then and there. The touch of his overly tanned skin still surged through him, Maverick’s veins ached for the lack of the drug that was his hips, his lips.

“Congratulations on TOPGUN.”

He stammered out a thank you. His eyes couldn’t leave those hazel eyes, he couldn’t tell last night, _hazel_ eyes. Beautiful and intense, devouring him with such a piercing gaze.

He didn’t hear anything else that he had said. Finally Goose and the RIO, whose name he hadn’t heard anyway, left them there. Surely they too felt the heat. The challenge.

“It’s the song right, I blame John Taylor. Some _sensual_ shit.” Kazansky winked, closing into the pilots space.

“John who?”

“Whom.”

Kazansky’s eyes widened and before he could get a handle on the situation he was muttering, singing into Maverick’s ear: voice filling him and making his heart and certain parts of him ache.

“Burn to the ground. I break through the crowd.”

He took a deep breath, Maverick shivered.

“I’m on the hunt _I’m_ after _you_. Scent and a sound. I’m lost and I’m found.”

His voice was divine, pure silk. Silk dripped in liquid silver.

“And I’m _Hungry Like The Wolf._”

He radiated sensuality, sexuality and a pure aura of mystery.

Maverick was stunned. This _Iceman_.. goddamn. He had him hooked, drawn in, blown out of the sky.

Blown in a club too. Goddamnit.

“We are most certainly going to have a _good_ _time_ here.” Kazansky stated, sultry eyes never leaving Maverick’s own. He downed a shot, nodded to him and slowly but surely backed himself to the dance floor. “I’ll see you later.”

Maverick watched him go, his grip on his Budweiser suddenly clammy.

“Yeah, we are.” Maverick breathed, shaky and flushed, “Fuck yeah, Kazansky, we are.”


End file.
